


careless little cruelties

by ichabodcranemills



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Mentioned Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley - Freeform, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23988211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichabodcranemills/pseuds/ichabodcranemills
Summary: Pansy has been secretely in love with Ron since their third year, and that was fine. It wasfine. That was, until they were assigned to work together at the Ministry of Magic. She's sure she can keep her feelings in check. But could she really?
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, it’s 2020 and I decided I wanted to write a Ron x Pansy story. Enjoy?
> 
> A few things before you start reading, though:  
> I have no idea how aurors are supposed to work, neither how the English police/law system works, so I made everything up. In this story, aurors are something like detectives, but are also expected to present their case before a court of law, so the assistants are a bit like paralegals. Hum, yeah. I’m sorry if it makes no sense.

I love love, its tenderness and its cruelty. 

-Robert Desnos

* * *

If there was something Pansy Parkinson would never, EVER, admit to anyone was that she had fallen in love with Ron Weasley. Not that it had ever been a big concern for her, it wasn't as if anyone would notice anyway. Who even cared about Weasley? And to be honest, who even cared about her?

Their school personas could be defined and dismissed in just a few sentences. 

Pansy Parkinson: hangs with Draco Malfoy. Sort of pretty. Sort of a good student. Probably an asshole. Okay, definitely an asshole. May or may not have a thing with Malfoy, who knows.

Ron Weasley: Harry Potter’s best friend and that’s it. 

Of course, he was also obviously in love with Hermione Granger, but that only Parkinson seemed to have noticed. It was okay for Pansy, almost comfortable, that he loved Granger. She never stood a chance, but neither did any other Hogwarts girl. 

That was, of course, until that obnoxious jar of sugar that was Brown took notice of Weasley too.

Pansy would never admit she _cried_ over Ron Weasley.

And yet, her tears were indifferent to their dynamic, she was still nothing more than the girl Weasley vaguely hated because she walked with Draco Malfoy and because she had been evil to Granger a few times - she didn’t even like being evil to the other girl. Well, until she was fourteen it had been fun, but after a while, it just felt empty. Some sense of sorority had taken over her, girls should support other girls and so. But Weasley liked Granger. Pansy couldn’t simply be nice to her - Ron hadn’t a real reason to notice her, or even to effectively dislike her.

That was, until that Merlinforsaken day. 

Why wouldn’t anyone give Potter away? It was the obvious thing to do. Why was she suddenly the enemy number one?

Weasley noticed her then. Oh, how he noticed. He was a celebrity, a war hero. She was a criminal. Now he should hate her, she’d given him enough reason.

It’s funny (in a not funny at all way) how five years of knowing you don’t stand a chance with a boy don’t prepare you at all for the day this boy is lost forever.

Pansy’s heart was broken, her reputation was smirched, and so she disappeared

For years, she lived under the radar. In the higher ranks of the wizarding community, nobody would want to be seen in public hanging out with her, but her parents' connections had the grace of finding her decently paying jobs. Pansy’s lifestyle didn't change so dramatically. She just wasn’t worth mentioning anymore. Not even as “the girl who hanged with Draco Malfoy”.

And that suited her, for a while.

Eight years after the war, however, Pansy had had enough of hiding away.

“I want to apply for a job at the Ministry,” she announced to her parents.

“You do just that, dear. No one will remember that anymore.”

It didn’t give her all that much tranquility that this was the very first thing they thought of saying. But they were probably right. So she sent her application, without asking for any favours or references. And got the job.

Now, there she was. At the center of the action. And yet, invisible again. Comfortable invisible. Carrying out papers, signing documents. She saw Lovegood or some other of Potter’s weird gang now and then, but nobody cared about her.

Potter himself looked at her one day, without seeing her, right before he dropped his job as an auror to go to Hogwarts and be a teacher. And Pansy thought: _This could be the rest of my life. I can be quiet. I can even be happy. Just like that._

-/-

“Parkinson!” her supervisor, Claudius McLaggen, called her one morning. 

She lifted her eyes from the report she was proofreading and smiled at him.

“Yes?”

“They need more assistants in the public security sector. Aurors who can’t do the paperwork to save their lives, the usual. So you’ll be transferred there, with high praises from me,” her smile grew at that. McLaggen was a good boss. Her cousin had been in Hogwarts when she was there, and done _that_ , but he never acknowledged the fact “And they assigned you to…” he produced a paper with her name “Weasley, R.”

Her smile died down in a millisecond. A ball of lead sunk in her stomach, That couldn’t be right.

“R as in Ronald? My, my you are indeed a shining star, Parkinson! With the big fellas already. At this pace, this time next year you’ll be the Minister's personal assistant and- hang on, are you okay?”

She must’ve looked as shitty as she felt, because McLaggen was staring quite concerned at her. She felt nauseous. 

“Yes, I’m just- oh, I think low blood sugar, nothing serious.”

“All right. You should go to the infirmary anyway. And you can go home today. Tomorrow we will make the arrangements so you can start with Weasley right away.”

And so her perfectly contenting world started to fall apart.

-/-

Pansy firmly believed she had gotten over Weasley. Nobody has a crush on the same boy for over 15 years. It was physically impossible, right?

_Right?_

Wrong, of course, as she realized the very minute she saw him. Her heart skipped a bit when he walked towards her. Tired, ruffled, red.

That was the problem, she realized. It was the red that drove her mad. So much red. How could she not fall in love with him?

Granger was very lucky.

Finally, he looked back at her. And his tired expression twisted into incredulity. And then hate. No, not really. Nothing quite so passionate.

It was just contempt.

“This Ministry really is a joke,” he said. And that was the only thing he said to her for weeks.

Ron was high up enough to have his own office, but not so much for his administrative assistant to have one as well, which meant they had to share - every single day - a small office where their desks were just distant enough to allow them not to bump shoulders when both had to walk towards the door.

Ron spent almost no time in the office, though, always walking around the Ministry talking to other aurors or other higher ups, or on the streets, investigating, searching or arresting criminals.

He let the paperwork at her desk, his thorough reports with little notes of what she should do stick to it with post-its. Such a mundane muggle addition, but so very useful. Surely Granger must've taught it to him. Of course, those meant that there was no need for them to talk. 

Weasley, she knew, was just waiting for her to slip up, for an opportunity to get rid of her. But she made no mistakes.

Pansy did her work and pushed her every feeling to the deepest, most forgotten corner of herself. She has studied at the same school as him for seven years. She wasn’t going to melt now. 

No mistakes, no slips, no melting. She was that good. And she knew that.

"Minister, you can't be serious. Everyone knows what this man did! He can't simply get away with it!"

Ron and Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing just outside his office, the ajar door unable to shut their voices out. Their rushed-yet-loud talk piqued Pansy's attention. 

"No, Weasley. Who 'knows' what he did is a bunch of hippies, high on asphodel tea, with no credibility before the wizarding community. I trust your guts, Ronald, I do. But that alone won't stand a chance."

"Minister, please. You know he's a dark wizard. Who cares if my witnesses are questionable! They're telling the truth! You know the truth".

"I know, Ronald, that if you present the case like this, it won't hold at a formal hearing for more than two minutes. They'll drop all your allegations and, yes, he'll get away with it. And laughing at our faces. He wasn't caught in the act. Without an official spell recording done at the place, a memory rescue, or a thorough wand inspection, this case won't go forward."

Ron took a deep breath and massaged his temples.

"These are a bitch to get. How am I supposed to-?"

"Each auror has an administrative assistant for a reason."

Pansy was still pretending not to eavesdrop, but as soon as Shacklebolt pronounced the last word, Ron's head snapped in her direction. His expression was one of absolute disgust, but he walked decisively towards her anyway 

"Anything Lucius Malfoy did to get out of prison, figure out how to fight it back. We are not gonna let another criminal get away free."

_We_

She told her fluttering heart to shut up.

The next morning, she gave Ron a file containing everything he needed. So no, they didn't let the criminal get away with it.

-/-

_You're crossing a line._

Pansy's inner voice whispered it to her at the Ministry's end of year confraternization, and it was promptly ignored. She walked towards Ron while he was picking up a drink.

"I know you don't like me. But you can't deny that we make a good team."

The numbers, of course, spoke for themselves. Ron Weasley was the auror with the highest number of successful arrests.

He smiled, not looking away from his drinks. Then he turned towards Pansy, and she could've sworn his blue eyes found her soul.

"A good team, Parkinson. I have to admit."

Pansy smiled and warmth spread through her cheeks

"Doesn't mean we're friends!"

"Yeah, yeah, give me a bit more time," she said, teasingly.

Ron laughed but made no retort. He toasted to the air before walking away.

She smiled back and swallowed the childish, ridiculous, impossible expectations his laugh had set into her.

_Friends friends friends friends_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a shorter version of this story for a challenge in a Harry Potter forum a few years ago. Quarantine made me interested in it again, so I'm rewriting it and posting it here. Updates shouldn't take long, but I make no promises. Does anyone reads Ron x Pansy stories? If so, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

It was too easy to slip into careless little cruelties because you had power and other people hadn’t, too easy to think other people didn’t matter much.

\- Terry Pratchet

* * *

He spoke with her now.

Kind of inevitable, really, when one would think about it. They had been working together for almost a year. Some sort of relationship would eventually spring from it. Theirs, if not friendly, was at least amusing. It involved a lot of banter and sarcasm.

He still kept the post-its, but would actually go to her desk and point out important stuff. He asked her to get documents and old files. When he went to get coffee he would even ask if she would like some - she never did. She hated coffee. But he didn't know that, so the gesture was kind anyway.

Sometimes she would find herself staring at him, whenever he stayed in the office for any minute longer than the required minimum. When he ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all sorts of weird ways, she almost laughed at it. Good naturedly, like a friend would.

Sometimes he would look back at her. Not angry or offended. Just casually gazing at his coworker. He would even laugh, or shrug, or shake his head at her, and she would feel like she was doing something right. Because maybe, just maybe, Ron Weasley didn't despise her. He might even like her.

It meant nothing of course. But it made her heart feel lighter.

And that was why, against any sort of rational thinking, Pansy thought it was a good idea to approach Ron on an ordinary Monday, when he was clearly upset about something. 

He was sitting at his desk, holding a quill but not writing anything. His other hand was balled into a fist and a frown tensed his face. Ron had spent most of the day out, making rounds with Alicia Spinnet. No bad guys to catch, no cases to investigate. Just checking if the local wizard neighborhoods were in order. It was a boring job Pansy knew he hated, but it wasn't what had gotten him in that foul mood. He wasn't worried about dark wizards or annoyed by the bureaucracy. Something personal had bothered him. And because it was something personal, she knew, _she knew,_ it was no good to snoop. But she couldn't quite stop herself.

“What’s with the mardy mood?”

“None of your business, Parkinson.”

That wasn’t said in his usual casual dismissive tone. It came with such a sharp edge it took her aback.

“Ok, I’ll stay out of it.”

“Appreciate it.” he snarled back. Pansy didn’t speak with him further that day, and, as promised, stayed out of it.

For twenty days or so. 

The thing was, though, whatever had happened to Ron, it hadn’t been a one-time thing. It wasn’t even a bad week thing. For the better part of the month, Ron stayed by the Ministry much later than usual. He drank firewhisky with the old school folk on weekdays. He smiled less. His eyes were always dark and downcast. Something really bad had happened. Something a friend would know. 

She told herself: _That’s all I’m doing, I swear. I’m trying to be his friend._

And then:

_You’re such a fucking idiot, Pansy._

“Ron? Are you ok?” she asked quietly as she passed him a file in their shared office.

He frowned, but then just sighed. As if he was going to dismiss her, but didn’t have to energy to

“No. I’m not.”

Pansy waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing. She was about to walk away and give him the space he clearly wanted, when he lifted his head and looked at her.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

“What?”

“Go out in the streets. Be a field agent for a change.”

“I-I”

“Come on, Parkinson," he said, raising and already walking towards the Apparition point "I should’ve left ten minutes ago, can’t wait for you to find your nerves.”

She closed her gaping mouth and rushed after him.

“Of course I want to go.”

He smiled at her and grabbed her elbow before apparating.

They came to Knockturn Alley. Such a painfully obvious place for criminal activity to happen, Pansy nearly laughed. But Ron was already in business mode. He located one of his informants and had a rushed conversation with him, a barrier of Confundus Charm around them to dissuade anyone from paying too much attention.

He walked back towards Pansy, an urgent look in his eyes.

"Bad day to bring a newbie outside."

"What?"

"My source was wrong. The guy is here, I’ll have to make an arrest.”

"Oh. I-... Should I go back?"

"'Course not. You're here already. But you'll have to run, Parkinson"

She blinked at him.

"Run, come on!"

He pulled her by the hand, running through a criss-cross of streets. Her feet were already blistering on her goddamn heels, but she kept his pace.

At a U-turn, the criminal spotted them and shouted something, waving his wand. A wall above them exploded.

"Bloody hell!"

Ron pushed Pansy behind him and did a hasty shielding spell. Some debris still hit them, but nothing too serious. As soon as the dust cleared Ron went back to running.

Two streets later he managed to catch the man. After shipping him off to the support team to be detained, he turned to Pansy, ruffled and tired, but with a satisfied smile in his face.

"Sorry about all the hand-holding, Apparitions might be a necessity when chasing someone, so it's better if you're always close by."

"It's fine." She answered, her heart thundering in her chest, less to do with the running and more with how her hand still throbbed from his touch.

“You’re gonna need better shoes when we do this again.”

_When?_

“Ok.”

“Hang on.”

He leaned towards her and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

_Whatishappeningwhatishappeningwhatishapenning_

And cleaned the little smudge of ash the debris had left on her temple. He took a step away from her and Pansy tried to remember how to breathe.

“Well. That’s what I do when I’m not bothering you in the office.”

“I know. I read all your reports. They’re very thorough.”

He smiled with a raised eyebrow, surprised by the sort-of compliment.

“Ok, let’s do the part I don’t put in the reports now.”

“Please tell me it’s a beer. I’m killing for one.”

“Of course it’s a beer, Parkinson.”

Pansy and Ron sat down in the first pub that didn't make her twist her face and ordered their beers. They smiled at each other and suddenly she was shy. There was no reason for him to drink with her that day, in that environment. Unless there was. Her hand trembled slightly whenever she grabbed her pint, but if Ron noticed he did not comment. 

After half an hour of mindless chat, a silence fell between them. Comfortable, at first, but then sadness started to creep back into Ron's eyes.

“Ron," she tried again, with the same soft voice she'd used earlier “What happened?”

“You’re not interested, Parkinson. Believe me.”

“You can call me Pansy, you know. And believe _me._ You can tell me. It might make you feel better.”

Ron laughed, bitterly.

“What are you talking about? You think I can just go and make you my confidant?”

“I- that’s not what I mean” there was an unwelcome warmth spreading through her cheeks. She always blushed easily, so Pansy could only hope it was lost amongst the pinkness from the running and the beer.

“What do you mean then?” all easiness had left his voice and Pansy wished she could run away and pretend this conversation had never happened.

“Just that if you’re upset, you can open up. Like you would to-”

“To what?”

“To a friend.”

He stared at her for a long time, Pansy couldn’t quite hold his gaze. 

“Pansy,” he said, trying the name on his mouth, but apparently not liking the result “Do you think we are different people somehow? After everything we’ve been through in school?”

“Yes,” she said, firmly “We’ve changed. I changed. School was a long time ago.”

“School was very complicated.”

She didn’t like who she was in school. She didn’t want to think about it. She certainly didn’t want Ron thinking about it. 

“It bothers me seeing you so sad, that’s all.”

“You shouldn’t pay so much attention to me. We’re not friends, Pansy.”

Ron probably didn’t even notice. Although if it did, he probably wouldn’t care. 

The cruelty of how he said that.

It had been angry or mocking, just so hollowed out. Pansy realised that none of that mattered. A whole year of work together, laughing, drinking and running this afternoon. He didn’t trust her, he didn’t like her. He probably didn’t even care that she was there.

“Right,” she grabbed her things and stood up, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice even “Well, good luck with whatever provincial drama you’re facing.” 

“Thank you,” he answered in the same dry tone.

The next day, the silence in Ron's office could be cut through with a knife. It was like a return to their first weeks, except now it wasn't so much about a poignant avoidance on his part, but a tangible mutual animosity.

It was all his fault, of course, with his stupid stubbornness and rudeness. Except it was only so bad because it was her fault too. If she hadn’t held on to hope that he may care about her. If she hadn't believed that their relationship could change. If she hadn't seen that impossible proximity between them. If only she hadn’t acted so foolishly, it wouldn't have hurt so much when all of it was yanked away from her.

Pansy’s grip on her quill was so strong due to these thoughts that the blasted thing snapped in two in her hand. Cursing under her breath she leaned to get another one and got a glimpse of Ron looking at her. Rolling his eyes. The self-righteous bastard. She went back to her writing, pretending his eyes weren't drilling a hole in her head.

A paper memo came fluttering in the office. As an assistant, it was her customary job to get those, unless they were private, so she flung her wand to make it land on her desk. Except she forgot that, when they first started working together and he didn’t trust her with that simple task, he would read all the memos himself. She felt the slight resistance to the paper and thought nothing of it, she just focused more magic towards it. Then the crane was torn in two with a weak shriek. She looked back at Ron’s desk and saw him taken aback for a moment, his wand high, calling the memo to himself. Then their eyes met and the rage took the best of them.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” they shouted simultaneously.

“It’s my job, I’m the assistant-” 

“You can’t tell me what to do in my own office-” 

“- if you don’t trust me, just send me away!”

“-and it’s ridiculous that I’m to blame if I’m just trying to do my bloody job!”

The anger was gone as quickly as it had come and they were both left panting and slightly embarrassed. She wasn't going to apologize. Neither was he. Pansy raised and, with a flicker of her wand, sealed the memo back together, and took it straight to his desk.

She held the now blissfully silent memo between two fingers and hand it to him. Ron squirmed uncomfortably and slowly lifted his arm to get the paper. Pansy didn’t let go. Just for a second. Just enough to make him look at her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She wanted to go back to her desk, she really wanted. But he was still looking at her and she was still holding on to her end of the paper. She opened her lips to ask what was it, when he spoke, with a low hoarse voice.

“Hermione broke up with me. That’s why I’m so upset. I left our flat and I’m staying over with Harry. So yeah, feel free to mock.”

Pansy froze. For how long had she wanted to hear these words? Ron Weasley, free of Hermione Granger at last.

But still, not free for her.

“I wasn’t going to mock.”

He scoffed.

“Oh, no?” 

She just shook her head.

“Because you’re my _friend_ , right?”

She felt shame spreading from her neck to the roots of her hair. For a moment, her old classist self made an appearance. Who the hell was Weasley to make fun of her? Yet the answer was painfully obvious. He was the only one who could. So she swallowed and forced herself to keep looking at him.

"Who's mocking who now?". 

She hated how her voice sounded. How small and weak and sorrowful. But it affected Ron. He had the grace to look away, suddenly embarrassed

"I forgot I was supposed to meet the Minister today,” he mumbled before hastily standing and walking away “Excuse me.”

Pansy watched him leave the office, shame and anger burning at the edge of her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. She didn’t cry over Ron Weasley anymore. She. Would. Not. Melt.

Pansy dropped the offending memo at his desk - no one would bother to read it now - sat on it, and rubbed her forehead. _Stupid stupid stupid._

-/-

The next morning, Pansy arrived quietly at the Ministry. She managed to avoid talking to any colleague and entered her office before anyone could reach her. Hopefully, Ron would spend the day outside and she wouldn’t have to deal with-

“Hi.”

“Merlin’s fucking beard!” she nearly dropped everything she was holding, before turning towards Ron with a scowl “What are you doing?”

“Sorry for startling you.”

“I-I’m. I’m fine” she wasn't. He had been quiet as a shadow “It’s fine. I thought- I thought you had fieldwork today.”

Ron shrugged. Fieldwork didn’t necessarily keep an auror outside the Ministry for the entire day. They still had case files to read or supplies to collect before going to the streets. It was just Ron who usually spent the whole day outside whenever he could, to avoid Pansy.

"Do you really believe what you said?” he asked bluntly “That we could be friends?"

She looked at him and blinked twice before articulating a single thought. He had managed to startle her for the second time in less than five minutes.

"Yes." _No._ “Of course I believe that” _I've been hopelessly in love with you since we were thirteen, but, you know._ “If we at least try” _Friendship is the next best thing._

He made a noncommittal sound, his face unreadable. 

Pansy waited for him to say something, but after a few minutes, it became clear this wasn’t his plan. She walked back to her desk and started work even though her hands were stiff and her mind was focused on his words.

After what felt like too much time, Ron grabbed his coat and walked away.

“See you later,” he said before leaving.

“See you” she answered after a beat, to the now-empty office.

Pansy waited for him to come back. It wasn’t unusual that Ron would spend the whole day out, but she assumed he would come back, at least to drop reports at her desk. And then maybe they’d talk. They could talk about it, couldn't they? But he never did. At 7 pm Pansy realised she was being silly. She packed her things and left. They’d have the weekend off. Perfect time to spend two whole days torturing herself over what they spoke and did and what all of it meant.

_Fun! Someone please hex me now._

-/-

Every two weeks or so Harry would come to London from Hogwarts for the weekend, take a break from the kids, and go to a pub with his friends. This time, it was only him and Ron, but that was just what they needed.

After spending thirty minutes or so amusing Ron with Hogwarts’s anecdotes, Harry gathered the courage to ask what had been on his mind since the beginning of the night.

“And how are you doing?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Harry wanted to know how Ron was feeling after the breakup. Ron, however, was determined not to speak a single word about Hermione or how she’d made him feel. It hurt. A lot. More than he could've imagined, but he had never imagined being without Hermione, so that was probably why it hurt so much. He didn't want to have this conversation with Harry right now. Or ever.

“Just fine. Work’s ok. Sometimes it is mind-numbingly boring, as you know it can get. Oh, but this week we did a major arrest with a guy who was smuggling cursed items through Muggle stores. I took Pansy with me, which proved to be a dumb idea, I had to shield her from an explosion, but it was a good day.” Ron realised halfway through that he had used her first name, but it was too late to fix it. Why the hell had he used her first name? “Erm, the good kind of rush, you know?”

“You’re still with Parkinson? Thought you’d get rid of her in a month.”

“Yeah, that was the plan. But there was no reason for it, and no one wanted to do the paperwork for it without good reason" he explained, hastily "But she’s good, you know? Reliable, efficient. Keeps it to herself” why was he so eager to defend her was beyond him.

“Hum. Why did you take her to a beat, though?”

“A lot of Aurors take their assistants to beats.”

“Yeah, when they’re too lazy to do the bare minimum on their reports. Why did _you_ take _Pansy Parkinson_?”

“It’s nice for a change.”

Harry took a big gulp from his beer before speaking. 

“Look, Ron, I know you’re pretty shook over Hermione-”

“Don’t.”

“But don’t do anything stupid over it.”

Ron laughed.

“Oh, by Merlin. You think I’d do something stupid with _Pansy Parkinson_?”

“Colin told me she was looking at you interestingly at the last Ministry confraternization. He thinks she has a crush on you.”

“Colin Crevey? Ok, he also said Malfoy had a crush on you when we were in Hogwarts.”

“Well…”

That gave Ron pause. He set his pint back on the table and stared at his friend.

“Harry?”

Harry hid behind his own pint but eventually gave into Ron’s gaze.

“So, you know when I went back to Hogwarts? To do the mandatory specializing course to be a professor?”

“Yes?”

McGonagal had instilled new rules since they left the school, to prevent the students against new Trewlaneys or Lockharts. Which meant no one could just arrive there and say “Hi, I’ve done some stuff, give me a job”. So even Harry Potter had to receive formal education. Ron knew all about that. But this wasn’t the story Harry was telling.

“So, Malfoy was there too. He wanted to go to the US, teach History of Magic there, get away from his family for a while.”

“Uh-hu.”

“Well. We had a farewell party when the course was finished. Everyone got drunk, shared old stories, had fun, and…”

Harry let his voice die down and Ron got the clue.

“Bloody hell, you hooked up with Draco Malfoy.”

Harry's cheeks were bright red, but he held his head high.

“Yes. I won't comment on it. My point is, Colin Creevey knows some stuff.”

Ron pondered, adjusting to the fact that his best friend had snogged - and possibly done more - to his school worst rival and kept it a secret for almost two years. It made Ron reconsider if he was as good as reading people as he thought. To be honest, he had had a certain impression of Parkinson. Lingering gazes when she thought he wasn't looking. At the time, he thought he'd been imagining things. Then he shook his head, it was a ridiculous idea.

“Ok, having a good hunch about Malfoy doesn’t mean he’s got it right again. And even if Parkison has a crush on me - which she doesn't, it makes no sense - it means nothing. I’m not chasing it.”

“Then why did you-”

“Because I was sad, Harry!" he finally snapped "Because I needed to get my mind out of things that were bothering me and Pansy was there and she helped me with a case and it was fun!”

“I’m just-”

“And just because you had a one night stand with Draco Malfoy, it doesn’t mean I’ll be as careless and impulsive!”

Harry backed down, startled by his outburst.

“Ok. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Can we go back to funny Hogwarts stories now?”

-/-

The two women in the lift were sharing the most boring gossip Pansy had ever heard in her life. She was praying to every god she didn’t believe that they would get down the next level. When they did, though, she didn’t even have time to say thanks, as Ron Weasley entered right at the same time.

He nodded at her and she nodded back. She didn’t know what to expect from him, coldness or contempt, or even pretending nothing happened the last time they spoke.

“Hey, did you know Malfoy had a crush on Harry?”

She was certainly not expecting that. Pansy laughed in surprise.

“Of course I did, it was bloody transparent. I have no idea how no one ever noticed.”

“I just thought they hated each other.”

“Well…”

She could’ve gone on a rant of how emotionally stunted teenagers don’t know how to deal with their feelings and project them in negative manners, but that would take her too close to what she herself had felt, so she bit her tongue and just shrugged. Ron started talking again, more softly this time

“I’m sorry about the last few days. I…”

She looked at him waiting for him to go on, as he struggled with his words.

“Yes?”

“I don’t think we are friends. I’m not so sure we can be. But we can be kind towards one another, don’t you think?”

It hurt to hear that, but Pansy could tell this was the best she could expect from Ron. He was trying.

“I do.”

“So let’s try that, ok? Would that be okay for you?”

She smiled at him, trying to muster as much honesty as she could.

“It’d be okay for me.”

“Good.”

He smiled back at her, looking relieved, for some reason. When the lift finally reached their floor, Ron held the door, letting her go first. 

“So let’s go, Pansy. We have bad guys to catch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important thing about my fanfictions post Deathly Hallows: no one who died in Hogwarts Battle stays dead. Comments are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

I’m not sure if we’ve met at the right time, but because we’re both here, let’s try our best.

\- James Andrew Crosby

* * *

Ron never took her to a beat again. It was probably for the best because Pansy never got better shoes. She still wore heels every day, decreasing as much as she could the six inches Ron had on her. Pansy hated to crane her neck up to look at him.

Besides that, Ron had really fulfilled his promise and was treating her with kindness. He spoke softly, he asked for her opinion on cases, he greeted her joyfully. They still teased one another, but the sharp edges were gone.

Pansy knew Ron could be like that. As a teenager, she wasn't like Draco, who had developed a crush on Potter _because_ of their rivalry. Pansy had fallen for Ron because of everything he was when he wasn't around her. His bravery, his wit, his softness, his easy laugh. But now, being on the receiving end of the best he could be, it was almost too much. If she wasn't in love with him already, she'd fall all over again.

-/-

"Oh, Merlin, she is coming this way."

Pansy looked up to see who the intern was talking about and when she did so, her heart skipped a beat.

Hermione Granger magical creatures' rights activist, spokesperson of marginalized groups in the international wizarding community, a living legend. This very Hermione Granger, walking around the law enforcement lounge, talking energetically with the Minister of Magic.

Sarah, the intern, was fresh out of Hogwarts. She must've been a first-year, if even at school at the time of the war. Granger wasn't a person to her. She was an icon, a celebrity.

"Oh," Pansy answered.

"You're about her age, aren't you? Were you in the same year in school? Were you her friend? What was she like?"

Pansy would've laughed at the irony if it wouldn’t bring attention to the truth.

"She was around, but we weren't… acquaintances. I never really noticed her." she lied, without even having to think about.

Sarah made a face, considering what a waste Pansy was. _She_ wouldn't have taken Hermione Granger for granted had she been at school with her. 

Granger drew all the attention of the room to herself. Her full hair - the same Pansy had made fun of in school - clouded around her, like a beacon. It made her taller, stronger, majestic even. Bright in a way Pansy could only dream of, being as she was a wallflower since she left school. She still envied Granger. But not that bitter envy that made her cruel and angry. It just made her tired.

And, in that particular moment, it very much made her wish she possessed the ability to drive Ron away from that lounge.

No such luck - when had she ever been lucky regarding Ron Weasley? - Granger had been in the room for less than two minutes when Ron showed up. At first, distracted, laughing at something another auror told him. And then he saw her.

Pansy felt as if she was seeing a horror movie unravel in slow motion in front of her. 

Ron’s eyes dropped in that sad, sad way she was so used to seeing. He walked towards Granger because that’s what the other auror did, and why wouldn’t Ron want to greet her? Shackelbolt and her stopped talking to greet both aurors. Hermione smiled sadly but offered him a hand, he took it and then exchanged some words with her, running a hand through his hair.

Ron was like a torch, his hair blazing red, so complimentary to Hermione’s tempestuous brown. Even though they weren’t a couple anymore - and one could tell, in the way they were awkward around each other. Former lovers - Pansy couldn’t help but thinking that they were perfect for each other. She swallowed, pushing back the queasy feeling the whole scene gave her.

“Anyway, back to work, both of us,” she told Sarah, walking back towards her office.

“Oh, come on! Don’t you want to know what she has to say?” Sarah protested.

“Stay if you want. But I won’t help you if your work is late. If it’s something that concerns us, we will know eventually anyway.”

Pansy walked away without giving the girl a chance to reply, but she knew Sarah would stay and try to listen and would be late with her work at the end of the day. But that was an expected effect of Hermione Granger being around.

In the office, Pansy worked quietly and efficiently, in the way she was able whenever she set her mind on that. And her mind was set on work, nothing else. She didn’t even lift her head when Ron entered the office, a few minutes later.

“Can you find me the statement for the Darrow case, please? I’m supposed to speak on court today.”

Pansy nodded and went to the files to look for it. She handed the papers to him without saying anything.

“Teenagers steal a few wands and they set the whole circus for it, bloody waste of time if you’d ask me.”

He was stalling to distract himself and Pansy should follow his lead. She sat back on her desk and started writing.

_Take a cue and keep your mouth shut._

“So…”

_I swear to Merlin, you idiot, don’t say anything._

“Why was she here for, Hermione Granger?”

Ron’s transformation was instant. The sadness was gone, replaced by annoyance and anger. _None of your business, Pansy, as usual._ He was going to forget the kindness act and get into a fight with her, wouldn’t he?

But Ron just took a deep breath and looked away from her.

“I’m sure if it concerns us, we’ll get a memo.” his voice was strained as he repeated nearly the same words Pansy told Sarah.

Pansy opened her mouth to agree, but he walked away before she could voice anything.

“I’ll get down to the courtroom, see you later.”

Ron came back and kept quiet for the rest of the day. Not abnormally quiet, just not engaging in conversation. Maybe he hadn’t been so bothered, Pansy considered. She hadn’t wanted to start anything.

_Liar._

When the working day was nearly over, Ron finished writing his reports, took the paperwork to the filing cabinet, went back to his desk, and organized his things. His movements were very controlled and deliberate. He was occupying space in a way he usually didn't. It was like a dance and Pansy couldn’t keep her eyes away. But she hastily did, as soon as he turned to face her.

“What do you want from me, Pansy?”

“What?” she looked at him again, dumbstruck. 

“Why did you ask me about Hermione? Why do you care?”

He was calm. There was a fire dancing just beneath the surface, but he wasn’t arguing with her. Perhaps it was better if he was. She didn’t know how to answer.

“You know what happened. You know it affected me, you know _she_ affects me. You know I don’t want to talk about it with you.”

“I just wanted to know-”

“ _You know,_ ” he continued, as if she hadn’t interrupted him “That if she came to say anything of significance you would hear about it, probably even before me. So why would you ask me that, if not to probe in my life?”

He could read her surprisingly well. She definitely preferred it if he was angry. Rage would make Pansy feel less mortified.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just trying to understand what your angle is here.”

“I don’t have an angle.”

“You do. You always have an angle.”

“I don’t have an angle!” she protested “I care about you, that’s all.”

He didn't answer, just _looked_ at her. He had never looked at her with such intensity before. She could feel her cheeks blushing.

“Do you want to be my friend?”

The repetition of that question took her aback. Maybe _he_ had an angle. He lifted an eyebrow at her lack of response. 

"Yes," she mumbled before the silence stretched too long to be weird. As if they weren't way past weird.

He stood up and walked close to her desk and only stopped when he was inches away from her. She stood up too, but he was too close, stunning her with all that red, all that blue, forcing her neck to crane up - _don’t do that, I hate doing that._

“Tell me the truth.”

“The truth?”

“Do you want to be my _friend?_ ”

Despite her every instinct, Pansy realized she couldn't lie. Not anymore, not with him standing so close to her. So she just shook her head.

"Then what do you want from me?"

She licked her lips. His eyes followed the movement, she noticed.

"Just-"

He was so close she could count every one of his freckles. There it was. She was melting.

So he kissed her and she didn't have to think anymore.

No Granger, no Hogwarts, no concerns, no embarrassments. For one blissful moment, there was only the feeling of Ron Weasley’s lips against hers, his hands sliding through her hair, her hands grasping at his jacket and the smell of spearmint and new parchment flooding her senses. 

They moved together and Pansy’s hip bumped against the desk. Ron’s chest was pressed against hers and a small moan unwillingly escaped her lips. 

The sound seemed to bring Ron’s mind back to reality. He pulled apart and looked wide-eyed at Pansy.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, hastily walking away from her, back to his desk. 

“Don’t be” she replied in a hoarse whisper.

“I can’t- We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said with his back to Pansy, waving one hand “It’s very inappropriate. You should go.”

Pansy should’ve left then. It was what she would’ve done, usually, following her regular behaviour of lowering her head and disappearing.

But she didn’t want to do this anymore. Not when she finally got the one thing she wanted since she was a teenager and realized it only made her hungrier.

She walked towards him and laid her hand flat on his back.

“Could you not do the appropriate thing for once in your life?”

He turned to face her and there was hesitation in his eyes. Perhaps even guilt. But there was something else there. He was hungry too.

Pansy cupped his face and stood on her tiptoes to reach his lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and neither of them hesitated anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Trans rights are human rights](https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/n7wnbb/tony-mcdade-nina-pop-how-to-help)


End file.
